Chapter 299: [Kneel] (4K)

When Herbert arrived at the place where the slaves were being held, the disturbance had already subsided.

After the brief uproar, the area had returned to its previous quiet—well, relatively speaking.

Not completely quiet, just missing some of Cyril's full-throated wailing.

In its place came the chaotic crack of whips, along with some feeble, weak screams.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

"Ah! Cough! Mm!?"

"No! Ah—"

"Ahhhhh!"

"Don't! Stop hitting… ah!?"

Only this time, the ones strung up on iron chains and whipped were no longer the slaves from before, but the guards.

The slaves who had once been locked in cages were freed, transformed into vengeful demons, savagely tearing into the villains who had inflicted suffering upon them.

The tormentors were bound, becoming helpless victims of torment.

The tormented picked up whips, transforming in an instant into tormentors… no, they were avengers.

Attacker and defender had switched places.

The innocent gained weapons, the wicked received punishment.

Setting aside the bloody parts, it was a very pleasing scene.

The only flaw was that the ones being beaten clearly lacked presence— their voices weren't manly at all!

Actually, one couldn't really blame them for being cowardly and terrified— the vengeful demons simply looked far too terrifying.

Especially a few fat men, cackling wildly while furiously whipping a tall, sturdy, headless, testicle-less body.

The scene wasn't exactly bizarre, yet Herbert couldn't help but steal a few extra glances.

"Eh?"

Herbert couldn't tell if it was an illusion, but he had a nagging feeling something was off, vaguely sensing that the way those few walked was a little awkward…

Maybe they'd hurt their feet or legs during the torture?

Hey, what else could it be?

Surely they couldn't have been… damaged back there, right?

"…Hiss, n-no, hard to say."

Herbert thought of some memes from the local must-eat list, recalled the categorical divisions he'd overheard people chatting about, and silently wiped his sweat.

"Ahem, who knows? Mhm, none of my business."

Everyone, you absolutely must respect other people's preferences!

Don't understand, but respect.

Herbert was standing there sighing in lamentation when his figure also caught the attention of some of the slaves.

"Hm?"

"Someone's coming!"

"Get ready to fight!"

After being freed from the cages, a dozen or so able-bodied slaves stripped weapons and armor from the guards' bodies, divided them up, and prepared to fight the slave traders to the death just like that.

Unfortunately, there were too many people and too few supplies— three had to share a single sword, four had to split one shield, and one person could only get a piece of leather armor to protect their vitals.

To prevent slaves from escaping, this camp had been deliberately set up in a mountain valley, with only two paths left.

One was the trade road leading into the dark region, the other was the only path to the outside world.

Since escape was impossible, all that remained was a desperate fight to the death.

If they didn't succeed, they'd die as martyrs!

And now, Herbert appearing in their line of sight at just this moment became their first target.

The noble aura emanating from the white-haired youth, combined with his handsome features… he didn't look like a mortal, more like a pure white angel who had wandered into this place by mistake.

After their initial shock, the slaves came back to their senses— this youth definitely wasn't a slave.

He was either a slave trader or one of their running dogs!

And regardless of his identity, anyone appearing here was their enemy.

"Kill him!"

"No! Grab him! We'll pry information out of him!"

"Right! Take him alive!"

They surged forward with fierce momentum, swarming toward Herbert in a rush.

However, the slaves hadn't realized one crucial fact.

By the time they noticed Herbert, Herbert had already been observing them for quite a while.

"…Sigh."

These guys were skin and bones from prolonged starvation, three of them couldn't add up to the weight of two, looking as if a gust of wind would knock them over.

Weak.

Far too weak.

So weak he didn't dare fight back, afraid that the slightest touch would kill them outright…

Still, although these guys were undeniably a ragtag bunch who couldn't take a hit, they were unquestionably a group of desperados driven to the end of their rope.

An army fighting for its life is bound to win.

Bolstered by their will to survive, they might be able to burst forth with fighting power even more astonishing than others!

Well… though it's not much use.

Even if a war-veteran's combat power doubled, it would only barely squeeze past the two-digit mark.

The base number is too small; even multiplication is meaningless.

Bursting out only works when the gap between enemies is small—enough to knock the foe flat.

If the disparity is too vast, then all you can do is pray you're a protagonist blessed with destiny's cheat.

Like learning a technique that grows exponentially, like some conceptual deity's special ability… Failing that, you'd have to join a mysterious sect that can lock HP and lock MP.

A little "ding," just like that~

"Ah, then let's ding it."

Musing thus, Herbert shook his head with emotion and slowly drew his long sword.

Clang…

And Herbert's attitude in drawing his sword only further convinced the slaves that their own thoughts were correct; their expressions grew more agitated as they roared and charged forward.

"He dares draw his sword!?"

"He's definitely a slave trader!!!"

"Grab him!!!"

"It's all because of them that we're suffering like this!"

The vengeful demons, consumed by thoughts of revenge, lost their reason and launched an attack against this unfamiliar youth.

This scene fell into the eyes of everyone present; some even turned their heads away, closing their eyes, unable to bear watching.

"Sigh, it's happening again."

In fact, after "hope" appeared, not everyone was thinking of resistance.

A portion of the slaves had been captured long ago and had witnessed too many escape attempts that ended in nothing.

And in the end, those slaves who tried to break free and flee were all hung before their cages, rotting away bit by bit.

They had already been tamed seven or eight tenths of the way, knowing how to avoid abuse and what to do to get more food.

Numb?

Or perhaps, their hearts had died.

No one would come to save them.

The gods wouldn't either.

They had long since prayed countless times, but in the end, no one came to rescue them.

These people's hearts had already died; they only hoped to meet a somewhat kind master, one who wouldn't treat them like slave traders—that alone would be enough.

As for resistance?

That would only anger the slave traders, making their retaliation even more brutal, and even extending to these "innocent" people.

The distance between Herbert and the slaves grew shorter and shorter; finally, someone couldn't bear to watch any longer.

"Stop!"

An anxious voice rose above all the battle cries, rebuking those Bai Chi.

"All of you, stop right now!"

"You must not act wantonly in His Excellency's presence!!!"

On the other side of the camp, the cultivators of the Mist Monastery continued their disguise; before clarifying the current situation, they had not exposed their identities like Cyril had.

But upon seeing Herbert draw his long sword, someone finally couldn't hold back any longer.

Not good!

If mishandled, something terrible would happen!

Although they too didn't believe Herbert would strike innocent slaves, who could guarantee an accident wouldn't occur?

A Holy Knight truly wouldn't attack the weak—but what if the other party wasn't innocent?

Stepping back ten thousand paces, if a Holy Knight is attacked, surely they're allowed to counterattack?

"Everyone stop!"

Varo among the crowd bellowed at the top of his lungs, trying to stop these Bai Chi from courting death.

A bunch of fools!

Don't you know your own strength!?

In truth, Varo's rebuke seemed to be warning the slaves, but was actually conveying a message to Herbert.

These are good people!

Your Excellency, these are all good people!!!

Please don't act rashly—

"What?"

"…Stop?"

The slaves weren't Bai Chi either; upon hearing Varo's shout, they sensed something was off.

But their momentum had already built up, their feet couldn't brake at all, and they could only stumble onward toward Herbert.

"…Sigh."

And facing the mob charging toward him, about to arrive before him, Herbert merely shook his head lightly and raised his long sword.

Then, he flicked the blade with a finger.

Ding!

Ding—

In an instant, the crisp sound dispelled all other noise.

Then, everyone present heard Herbert's calm, emotionless words clearly.

"Kneel."

He said—【Kneel】!

As the words fell, men and horses toppled.

The dozen slaves crashed heavily to the ground.

Whoosh!

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

"My leg!"

"Ah! Don't, don't push me!"

The legs of those dozen slaves seemed to gain their own will—knees buckled instantly, and with a thud, they knelt directly before Herbert.

Thump, thump, thump…

Still propelled by forward momentum, they slammed into one another, rolling into a tangled heap, nearly triggering a stampede.

When they finally came to a stop, the slave at the front lay pinned beneath the rest, his eyes resting precisely before Herbert's toes.

All he had to do was lift his head, and he would see those emotionless pale eyes silently watching them.

Herbert nodded silently, then shook his head, letting out a soft sigh.

"Ah."

He did not look down on the slaves—after all, the gap in strength was too vast; simply having such courage was already impressive.

His nod was satisfaction with his own sudden, inspired maneuver.

"Hmm, the effect is good."

This was the ability of 【Devil's Tongue】—granting Herbert's words power, enabling him to collectively incite and hypnotize practitioners, even implanting suggestions into their minds.

But when the targets were changed to a group of weak mortals—the situation became vastly different.

This terrifying power transformed into a compulsory command.

Or rather…【Decree】!

His shake of the head was regret—lamenting that this ability could still only bully the weak, with little effect against peers.

In fact, the moment Herbert spoke, not just those Bai Chi, but the entire slave camp collapsed to their knees.

Other slaves, regardless of posture or activity, halted what they were doing and automatically knelt toward Herbert.

Because the event was sudden and Herbert's ambush too abrupt, even some monks from the monastery were not spared!

Only a handful of high-tier monks remained standing, then knelt down immediately upon realizing something was wrong.

The ignorant slaves could not comprehend what Herbert had done—they only felt terror, believing a god had descended with a miracle.

But for those who understood… they couldn't comprehend Herbert's maneuver either!

What exactly happened?

Word-spirit?

Words become law?

Edict?

Is Herbert really this powerful!!?

No, hasn't he still not entered Legend?

Cyril's earlier attitude was not an isolated case—not everyone truly accepted Herbert.

Many past prodigies, though silent on the surface, still harbored competitive instincts.

Give me more time—I might not be inferior to him!

But at this moment, all resentment was swallowed whole; they lowered their heads in shock, daring not to show even a trace.

They stole glances at the lone figure standing tall in the midst, thoughts flashing through their minds—but finally condensed into a single sigh.

"What kind of monster is this…?"

This extraordinary strength was nearly indistinguishable from non-human power.

Had Herbert's holy power not been pure and his holy marks radiant, they truly would have suspected he had paid a terrible price to an unknown Miss Xie Shen for this power.

Well.

Though their reasoning was entirely wrong, their conclusion was accidentally correct.

Herbert's strength came entirely from non-human sources!

And yes, Herbert had indeed paid a great, horrific price—the price being a loquacious, argumentative trickster god lodged in his mind.

This constant mental assault absolutely counted as internal injury!

【"Hm?"】

The keen trickster god poked its head out, questioning its repeat-offender ally: "Hey! Are you talking behind my back again?"

"…"

The mortal remained silent, only shaking his head.

Can't hear, can't hear, can't hear…

【"Hey! Speak up! If you keep this up, I'm going to get mad!"】

"Shh, quiet—I still have matters to handle," Herbert requested to resume later.

But the trickster god seized his loophole instantly, shouting: "Aha! You didn't deny it! I knew my instincts were right!"

As for the trickster god's relentless persistence, the mortal merely smiled.

"Heh."

If you've already figured it out, why ask again?

Aren't you just asking for humiliation?

What a strange habit.

While Herbert and Nie Nasha bickered, the slaves kneeling on the ground gazed at him with reverence.

If Herbert had previously seemed like a lost angel, now he resembled more a divine incarnation walking among mortals.

He merely stood there, already like a god.

"... heh."

Herbert felt the varied gazes upon him, stirred slightly within, and let out two light laughs.

Is this what it feels like to be revered?

He had not never done similar things before.

But those had either been before a small group, or inspired fear in creatures lacking wisdom.

This was the first time he felt such reverence from mortals.

It seemed an invisible force rose from them and flowed into his body… no, all of it flowed into the shadow beneath his feet.

Hm?

Herbert's brow twitched slightly; he smirked in amusement.

Come on, buddy?

He lowered his gaze slightly, looking toward the glutton in the shadow.

"Nie Nasha, what are you doing?"

(End of Chapter)